


Off the Tapestry

by ElectraCute



Series: The End of the Rainbow [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Dysfunctional Family, End of the Rainbow AU, Family Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 10:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20113645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectraCute/pseuds/ElectraCute
Summary: The year is 1978. Sirius Black returns home for Christmas and, during dinner with his family, an incident takes place.(Side piece to The Boys of Summer by @todaslasmadrugadas)





	Off the Tapestry

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Boys of Summer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18478624) by [todaslasmadrugadas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/todaslasmadrugadas/pseuds/todaslasmadrugadas). 

> Hello everyone! If you've come from @todaslasmadrugadas's work, you'll probably know that this is a sidepiece for the Epilogue of The Boys of Summer.
> 
> If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go check out the work this is inspired by! You'll be doing yourself a favour. This fic is not exactly a spoiler, but it makes much more sense in context.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sirius has always hated having to come home for Christmas. Because Christmas is not like the summer holidays, when his mother is more than happy to get rid of him by shipping him to the Potters. No, Christmas is an entirely different affair, a time when all the members of the House of Black must come together to celebrate. And thus, his presence is required.

He is surprised by how calmly his mother welcomes him back; given the reports that the school must have sent, he was anticipating a much more heated reception. Christmas Eve passes with preparations, and still not a sign of the storm he is expecting. Perhaps something has happened, he hopes. Perhaps the school sent no reports, perhaps they were lost in the mail. But all this quiet scares him, makes him fear for the worst. He wishes it would come already.

On Christmas Day, they are all there, seated as always around the elongated mahogany table. His father sits on one end, Uncle Cygnus on the other. Much to Sirius’ dismay, Uncle Alphard has been skipping family meetings for a couple of years now. That, added to Andromeda’s absence, makes him feel all the lonelier.

There isn’t a single person at this table whose presence he can willingly tolerate.  _ Not even Regulus? _ he asks himself. No, not even him. Not when he’s sitting all prim and proper by his side, his brand new suit immaculate, his hair neat and tidy, and a stupid smile plastered all over his face. Regulus is right in his element, surrounded by all the people that Sirius so passionately loathes. And so he cannot help but spare some of that loathing for his little brother as well, regardless of whether or not he deserves it.

The conversation is dominated by Bellatrix, who has now assumed the post of assistant secretary in the Conservative Party and won’t shut up about her beloved Madame Thatcher and how she just  _ knows  _ the party will win next year’s election. This makes Sirius almost pity his cousin’s husband; Rodolphus Lestrange, who married her to clear his family’s underworld-linked name and enter the high society (not that the benefits for the Black family were outweighed, of course), has probably realised the great cost of that deal by now. Sirius resists the temptation to give him a nod of sympathy because, honestly, that man is a little terrifying.

Bella and her ongoing speech manage to overshadow even the likes of Lucius Malfoy, a special addition to this year’s Christmas dinner, who has taken Andromeda’s seat on Narcissa’s left. The enormous diamond ring he gave her a couple of months prior is glittering on the blond girl’s right hand, and Cissy only has eyes for him, with his perfect hair and his self-important smile.

Aunt Druella makes a lighthearted comment on looking forward to welcoming her first grandchild, accompanied by a meaningful look at the bride-to-be, and Sirius bites his lips shut lest they let slip that  _ Aunt Druella already has a grandchild, and it is Andromeda’s baby _ . He knows this topic is forbidden. Andromeda never existed, and any child of hers does not share their blood, that incest-tainted blood he so despises.

Sirius takes another grim look around the table and feels the loathing swelling up in his chest. He hates listening to them talk, he hates their bespoke suits and their expensive dresses, he hates their pale angular faces and their grey eyes, all of them the exact same shade and  _ goddammit _ , all of them identical to his own.

For a moment, he daydreams about the Potters, and how Christmas might be in their house - colourful and festive, he is sure, full of scents and noises and laughs and joy. It is his mother’s voice, quiet but sharp as always, that brings him back to reality.

“Since we are all gathered here tonight,” she begins to say, “I felt it is the right time for me to share with you, my family, an issue that has been troubling me.” Sirius feels a shiver down his spine because her eyes are cloudy and her face - that face he has inherited down to a tee - is twitching slightly under that perfectly calm façade. And he knows Walburga well enough to read the signs of her storms.

“Is anything wrong?” asks Bellatrix with genuine care in her voice, and Sirius feels an urge to vomit at his cousin’s affection. He knows very well that his mother returns it, that she cares about Bella in a way that she has never cared for her own sons. That was the first reason he began to hate Bellatrix when they were children - not that she didn’t give him a few more along the way.

“Indeed, Bella, something  _ is _ wrong in the House of Black, and it concerns none other than the firstborn heir to our name and fortune.”

All eyes are suddenly on him, and apart from Lucius Malfoy, who is a newcomer, they all seem to sense what is about to unfold. Sirius takes a deep breath in and prepares his defense mechanisms for the attack. He has become rather resilient after all these years of practice.

“First of all, I’d like to ask you, Orion, to forgive me for not updating you in advance.” Her husband, of course, is not in the least bothered. He makes a vague gesture that probably means  _ it’s fine _ . Sirius’ father has never expressed interest towards anything related to his children anyway. He probably forgets what they look like every now and then, only to be reminded on the rare occasion he decides to visit Grimmauld Place.

Walburga continues, calm and collected, yet every word she says pierces him like a dagger. “I have received several reports from Hogwarts these past few months, ever since the beginning of term, that indicate some unacceptable patterns in our eldest son’s behaviour. Not only does he engage in all sorts of delinquent activities during his time there - which comes as no surprise at this point - but he also seems to have abandoned his academic pursuits. His marks have been dropping at an alarming rate, and the Headmaster informed me that if this continues, Sirius will have to repeat the classes next year. And since this is about our  _ heir _ , I request all of the clan’s advice on how to best handle the situation.”

Sirius avoids his mother’s gaze for as long as possible. He observes the others instead while plucking up his courage; a Black child with such low marks is unheard of, given that they have all been tutored on everything since the age of three, and the looks on his relatives’ faces are rather fitting.

He finally turns to face  _ her _ , and there it is; the face that looks exactly like his own, only this one is cold and unforgiving, and terrifying in its eerily glowing beauty. He imagines it going blue in a fantasy where he uses her diamond necklace to strangle her. This is what she was waiting for; an opportunity for public humiliation. Walburga Black is a sadist, and thoroughly enjoys making his life as torturous as possible.

He stands up and begins to clap. Slowly, steadily, and not breaking eye contact.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she says, a warning tone in her voice.

“Congratulations, mother. The opening monologue has been rather moving. I’m sure our audience,” he gestures towards the rest of the guests, “is looking forward to watching the rest of the show. And knowing us, I can promise that we won’t disappoint.” He knows he’s playing a risky game, and the ominous spark in his mother’s eyes turns into a flame.

“Funny that you used that word, because that’s all you’ve been doing since the day you were born. Disappointing everyone around you. Perhaps it is my fault after all, for keeping you in this house and in this family and still hoping, despite everything, that you will improve, that you will stop embarrassing  _ me  _ and the entire House of Black at every given opportunity.”

Sirius snaps. “All I’m doing is trying to live my life! A difficult concept for you to grasp, isn’t it? Right, what do you know about living? As if you’ve ever lived! As if you’ve ever felt what it’s like to have friends, to love, to be happy! What are you asking of me?! To grow up doing everything I’m told, never questioning anything? To marry one of my cousins that I never loved, have children that I’ll never care for, and lose every bit of my soul in the process? I’m sorry, mother, but I won’t ever become  _ you _ !”

Everyone is holding their breath. Walburga is barely keeping it together, nearly fuming, like a dragon about to exit its lair. She stands up as well now, and Sirius realises how tall and imposing she actually is. When he was a child, he used to think his mother wouldn’t look as scary if he were all grown up like her. Turns out that her presence is still rather intimidating, and he unwillingly takes a step back.

“You,” she breathes heavily, “you  _ dare _ insult me like that in my own house! I SHOULD HAVE DROWNED YOU AT BIRTH, YOU ODIOUS WASTE OF SPACE!” The hatred is seething inside her, and her entire body is shaking. She slaps the hand that her husband Orion lays on her shoulder, attempting to hold her back as she now lashes out, screaming all sorts of horrific insults at Sirius. “YOU CONTEMPTIBLE FOOL! YOU WORTHLESS WRETCH! YOU LOATHSOME SWINE!”

Sirius is so enraged that he feels the veins popping on his forehead. If this is a screaming competition, he can become a strong contender. “THAT’S RIGHT! I AM EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THOSE THINGS YOU CALLED ME! AND YOU KNOW WHAT? IT’S EVEN WORSE THAN YOU THINK! BECAUSE I’M ALSO A FAGGOT! YOUR PRECIOUS HEIR IS A FUCKING QUEER!”

The silence is deadly. Eyes widen, hands fly to open mouths, a muffled  _ oh my god _ comes from Narcissa.

“What did you say?” asks Walburga, perfectly calm all of a sudden.

“I said I am gay, mother,” he declares, his voice now steady. “I like men, not women.” A wonderful feeling floods him; for some insane reason, he isn’t afraid anymore. Their hatred fuels him. He feels superior to all of them and their little minds. He doesn’t belong in this family, that is something he has known for ages, but only now does he realise what it really means; it isn’t a curse, but a blessing.

His mother’s face is expressionless, like that of a porcelain doll. “You have thirty minutes to pack your belongings and leave this house,” she says, so quietly that he can barely hear her. “You are no longer considered a member of the House of Black, nor an heir. You are no son of mine anymore. I will burn you off the tapestry first thing in the morning. And don’t you  _ dare _ contact anyone in this room ever again.”

Packing his things is easy enough; he lives out of a trunk for most of the year anyway, and he hasn’t taken out much since he came home from Hogwarts. One of the maids offers to help him take it down the stairs, but a murderous look from his mother across the hall forces the maid to leave him alone.

He turns around to look at them one last time before opening the front door; Lucius Malfoy has placed an arm around a still very shocked Narcissa, Bellatrix has resumed her chatter as usual, his aunt and uncle are silently nodding and his mother is serving his father some more stuffed turkey.

The only one not ignoring him is Regulus; he is staring, tears welling in his eyes, silently begging him not to go. Sirius tilts his head, smiles bitterly, and waves goodbye. He closes the door behind him with a bang, and drags his trunk outside.

_ Of course it’s raining, _ he thinks to himself as the first water drops hit his face, mingling with those few escaping his eyes. He couldn’t care less about not having an umbrella right now. He walks all the way to James’ house - and it takes a valiant effort, carrying this weight in the rain.

But he eventually gets there, rings the bell, and the moment he sees Mrs. Potter’s worried face at the door, he feels the burden in his heart dissolving and the rain washing it away. Not long after, he’s sitting on James’s bed, wrapped in a fuzzy towel, sobbing loudly into his friend’s chest. Can these be tears of grief, or are they in fact tears of relief? He cannot be quite sure right now, but he assumes they are probably both.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this small fic! If you did, consider leaving me a comment, I'd really appreciate it! :)
> 
> Also, remember; we're going to try and expand this AU, so keep an eye out for that!


End file.
